You Can Pick Your Nose But You Don't Really Pick Your Friends
by Niente de Nada
Summary: A young Gintoki first meets Katsura and Takasugi. (Oneshot)


_Only one man in a position of authority had ever believed in the tempestuous but gifted young Takasugi, and that man was Yoshida Shoin._ - Michael Huber, The Revolutionary Origins of Modern Japan, pg. 148

**Author's Note: **For a long time I tried not to write this fic, because I have other projects I felt I should be focusing on. But the ideas and words kept spilling from my brain onto the page, till finally I had a substantial one-shot about the Young Joui Trio. I hope you enjoy. There's a lot of historical-inspired detail here, which is explained in very long author's notes after the fic.

**You Can Pick Your Nose But You Don't Really Pick Your Friends**

Gintoki had been dead tired when he and Shouyou-sensei had finally arrived at their destination the night before. He'd fallen asleep the moment he was tucked into an incredibly soft futon and slept soundly through the night and into the morning.

But now he was woken by loud whispers outside the room where he was sleeping.

"C'mon, let me see."

"No. I _told_ you."

They were boys' voices. Gintoki stiffened. Where was Shouyou-sensei? Sensei had told him they were going to stay at the house of some friends of his, but Gintoki had no idea who these people were.

"I'll just push it open a crack. Here." There was a shuffling sound, then a ray of sunlight fell on his face.

"You're going to get us into trouble, Takasugi."

"Shhhh."

"What do you see?"

"Nothing yet. I ... Katsura, stop shoving."

"No, let me look."

Gintoki sat up. "Hello?"

There was silence on the other side of the screen.

"I heard you," Gintoki added.

"See. I told you!" cried one of the voices. "Now we'll catch it."

The screen slid open, revealing two boys standing on the porch outside. Gintoki thought they were about his age, but they were as different from him as they could possibly be. They both had long straight hair tied up in pony-tails, and they were wearing fancy bright-coloured clothes that Gintoki knew must be expensive. He felt suddenly very ill-at-ease in his plain grey yukata.

"You won't tell on us, will you?" one of the boys was anxiously saying. This one was the thinner of the two. The other, a round-faced boy with startlingly green eyes, was just staring at him.

"Ah . . ." Gintoki was perplexed. Tell on them to who? Sensei?

"You have silver hair!" the thin boy exclaimed before Gintoki could think of an answer.

The round-faced boy laughed. "It's not silver. It's just grey!"

"Yeah, well you two have girly hair," Gintoki retorted. "Don't you ever get a haircut?"

"My hair is not girly!" insisted the thin boy. "Your hair is all ragged. You don't have proper hair for a samurai."

"I've seen lots of samurai," Gintoki insisted. "They all cut their hair short now," he lied. "They don't look like _girls_."

The thin boy looked like he was about to cry. "My father's hair is long," he insisted.

"Everyone here looks like girls," Gintoki continued. "I guess people here don't know about hair cuts."

"I don't think you're a samurai," said the round-faced boy suddenly.

"Takasugi! Don't say that!"

"Well, I don't. He doesn't know anything, and he talks weird."

"That's because he came from far away. And he's my family's guest, Takasugi," the thin boy said firmly. He turned back to Gintoki. "I'm sorry. My name's Katsura Kotarou. This is my house." He nudged the other boy.

"All right. My name's Takasugi Shinsuke. Who are you?"

Gintoki paused. He didn't like questions. You never knew what people might do with the answers.

"Oi, are you stupid or deaf?" Takasugi snapped. "Tell us your name!"

"We told you ours," Katsura said reproachfully.

"Gintoki."

"That's not a real name," said Takasugi.

"Takasugi, stop being rude, or I'll make you go home."

"He doesn't live here?" asked Gintoki, suddenly relieved. Katsura looked just about bearable. Takasugi, on the other hand . . .

"Of course not. He's just a neighbour." Katsura turned to Takasugi. "You're not supposed to be here."

Takasugi ignored Katsura. "Where did you come from?" he asked.

Gintoki frowned. In truth, he didn't know where he'd been when his new kind friend had found him. And he didn't want to think about that battlefield and the past ever again. He settled instead for a question. "Where is this?"

"My house," said Katsura simply.

"But where's your house?" Gintoki pressed the matter.

"Hagi," said Takasugi.

"Where's that?" asked Gintoki.

Takasugi and Katsura exchanged incredulous looks.

"This is the capital of Choshu," Katsura said.

"But where's -"

"Stop it!" shouted Takasugi. "We're in Japan, ok. At least you know about Japan?"

"Of course, I know we live in Japan. I'm not stupid," said Gintoki. "Sensei said he was taking me to his home town."

"This _is_ our home town," Katsura replied. "Yoshida-san has a farm in a little village just outside the town."

"Who's Yoshida-san?" asked Gintoki.

Katsura frowned at him. "Yoshida Shouyou brought you here."

"Oh, Sensei."

"Why is Yoshida-san back here, anyway?" demanded Takasugi. "I thought he was studying in Edo."

"He's going to start a school. That's what he told my parents," Katsura happily imparted his inside knowledge. "I'm going to go to his school." His eyes suddenly widened. "Gintoki, are you going to his school too?"

"Of course I am," answered Gintoki without hesitation. He hadn't any idea what Sensei had planned for him, but he wasn't going to admit ignorance in front of these boys.

"I'm so glad!" Katsura exclaimed. "We can be friends and -"

"Is he coming?" Gintoki demanded, pointing at Takasugi.

"Nope," said Takasugi. "It can't be a very good school if you're part of it."

"But Yoshida-san is a genius!" said Katsura enthusiastically. "Everyone says so!"

"Yeah, but they also say he's completely irresponsible."

"Who says that?" Katsura demanded.

"Everyone," said Takasugi firmly. "Everyone knows that."

"That's not true!"

"He ran away from his job so he could enjoy himself in Edo."

Gintoki said nothing. Instead he stood up and started rolling up his sleeves. Sensei had told him he didn't need to fight anymore. But Sensei obviously hadn't foreseen this obnoxious boy. One good punch would knock some respect into him.

"Yoshida-san got permission to study in Edo," Katsura was telling Takasugi. "He – Gintoki!"

Gintoki had swung his fist at Takasugi and missed.

Gintoki swore. He hadn't expected the boy to jump back so quickly. Takasugi was laughing now: a high-pitched girly giggle. Even his laugh was annoying.

"You can't fight in my house!" Katsura cried.

"Of course we can't," said Takasugi, his lip curled into a derisive smile. "But your new friend here doesn't know that. He's never been inside a proper house before."

Gintoki charged.

Takasugi dodged him again, then turned on his heel to run into the garden.

Gintoki chased after, but as he reached the porch, Katsura pulled at his yukata from behind. Losing his balance, Gintoki fell backwards onto Katsura.

"You idiot," Gintoki snarled, trying get up. Katsura was still holding tightly onto him. "Let go!" He planted his elbow squarely into Katsura's chest.

"You can go fight somewhere else, Gintoki. Not in my house!" Katsura panted. He'd wrapped his left arm around Gintoki's waist and held on despite Gintoki's blows.

Takasugi was doubled over with laughter a few feet away.

Gintoki was rapidly considering his options. He had survived on his own in the world for as long as he could remember. Katsura was a coddled, rich kid who didn't know how to fight. It would be easy to throw him off. But Sensei wouldn't be happy if Gintoki hurt his host's son . . .

"Gintoki-kun, Kotarou-kun, what are you two doing?"

Katsura let go of Gintoki immediately. Gintoki jumped up, a feeling of dread and guilt building up in his chest as he looked up at Shouyou Sensei. He'd only been here a night, and he'd let down Sensei already.

"Gintoki's showing me his wrestling moves," Katsura said quickly. "He's going to teach me how to wrestle and I'm going to teach him geography."

"I see, Kotarou-kun. That's very kind of you."

Gintoki wanted to object to the idea of Katsura teaching him anything, but Sensei was smiling. He didn't actually believe Katsura's story, did he? Sensei was really smart . . .

Well, obviously he liked Katsura. That was fine with Gintoki. Katsura was okay.

But then Sensei smiled at Takasugi.

"You must be the young man for whom the Takasugi household is searching the neighbourhood this very moment."

"I didn't tell him to come here, Sensei!" Katsura said quickly. "He climbed over the wall. And then he barged in on Gintoki and woke him up."

"You didn't wake me up! I wasn't sleeping!" Gintoki retorted.

"Are you going to tell my parents I'm here, Yoshida-san?" asked Takasugi warily.

"Don't you think you should do that yourself, Shinsuke-kun?" asked Yoshida.

Takasugi shook his head. "They should know I can take care of myself."

Gintoki snorted. "No, you can't. You'd just starve to death." He turned to Katsura. "Don't feed him," he warned Katsura. "Then he'll_ have_ to go home."

"Gintoki, no child should have to care for himself," said Sensei quietly. "Shinsuke-kun, you're very welcome to have lunch with us."

Gintoki wrinkled his brow. Sensei said some odd things. But he was nice, and that's what mattered. He shouldn't be tricked by someone like Takasugi.

"We don't want him here, Sensei," Gintoki explained. "He was saying bad things about you! He said -"

"Shut up!" Takasugi snarled.

"He said you're irresponsible and you ran away from your job!" said Gintoki triumphantly.

Takasugi's face had turned scarlet. "You're a ... a ... filthy guttersnipe!"

Sensei laid a hand on Gintoki's shoulder. "Gintoki, I don't need you to defend me. Shinsuke-kun, did you want to know why I went to Edo?"

Gintoki could see that Takasugi was trembling. "If you would like to tell me, Yoshida-san," he said, sounding ridiculously polite.

Sensei nodded. "I think all three of you should know how the country has changed."

"The Amanto . . . " Katsura muttered.

"Yes, the Amanto," said Sensei. "Do you know who the Amanto are, what they want?"

"They're devils," said Katsura fervently. "Aren't they?"

Gintoki stared at him. Katsura must be the stupidest person he had ever met. "Devils don't die when you stab them," he told Katsura matter-of-factly. "Amanto do."

Katsura's eyes were as big as saucers. "You saw Amanto?"

"Of course I've seen Amanto. There are millions of them. Don't you have any Amanto here?"

Katsura shook his head.

"And what do you know of the Amanto, Shinsuke-kun?" Sensei asked. He really seemed to want to know Takasugi's thoughts for some odd reason.

"The Amanto are creatures from the stars, Yoshida-san" said Takasugi quietly. "They've come to make us their slaves."

"But they'll never defeat our samurai!" Katsura added on.

Gintoki began to laugh bitterly. "They're killing all the samurai!" he told Katsura. "I saw them!"

"Is that true, Yoshida-san?" Katsura demanded.

Sensei sighed. "I went to Edo to see what these Amanto really were. They are not monsters or devils. They are people like us, no matter how strange they seem. Some of them are our enemies. Some of them may become our friends."

Gintoki stared at Sensei. _Friends_? How could you ever be friends with those monsters?

"I'm going to fight them when I grow up," said Takasugi.

"Yes, I believe you," said Sensei gravely. His smile had completely disappeared.

"You do?" asked Katsura in surprise. "No one else believes us!"

"You are samurai. If there is still war in your country, you will want to defend it."

"You didn't," Takasugi pointed out rudely. Katsura gasped.

"Perhaps I have a different idea of the war that we must fight, Shinsuke-kun." The smile re-appeared on Sensei's face. "I am going to teach a school. Ignorance will be my enemy on the battlefield."

"Isn't that just running away from real war, Yoshida-san?" retorted Takasugi.

"Takasugi!" Katsura snapped. "You can't talk to Yoshida-san that way!"

"Everyone else will," said Takasugi defiantly. "Yoshida-san, you could still be teaching military tactics at the Academy. You could be doing something _useful_ to help defeat the Amanto!"

Yoshida shook his head. "The old-fashioned tactics I would be forced to teach at the Academy are worse than useless, Shinsuke-kun."

"How do you know? You've never fought in a war!"

"You need to shut up," interrupted Gintoki. This had gone on long enough. No matter what Sensei said, he wasn't going to stand quietly by while this boy abused him. "You know nothing about what war's like. You think you're going to be a hero? You're just going to wave your sword around and get cut down by a laser beam, like all the other samurai."

"I'm not stupid!" snapped Takasugi, even though he obviously was. "I'll learn all about the Amanto. I'll learn how to kill them! But then I won't hide away in a corner while they're taking over our country!"

"Where will you learn about them, Shinsuke-kun?" asked Sensei gently.

Takasugi paused. "I will," he said at last. "I promise I will."

Sensei nodded. "Good. To become a warrior today, you must learn more things than our ancestors ever dreamt of. You were born at a special time and place, Shinsuke-kun. There are worlds beyond count opening up to us, so much knowledge you will have to make your own to become a true warrior."

Takasugi's eyes narrowed. "Is that what you're going to teach in your school, Yoshida-san? How to become a true warrior?"

"Perhaps," said Sensei lightly. "But only for children self-disciplined enough to accept that a samurai's first war is with himself." Gintoki realized that Sensei's face was lit up with the same approving smile he bestowed on Gintoki himself. Hot jealousy coursed through his veins.

"That's not anything new," said Takasugi. "My father says stuff like that all the time."

"Your father is an honourable samurai, Shinsuke-kun. He expects you to live up to the same code he's devoted his life to."

"Well, he doesn't like you."

"It's a good thing that we don't need to be liked by everyone, isn't it?" asked Sensei, sounding amused.

"My parents like you a lot!" Katsura cut in.

"Yes, Kotarou-kun, Gintoki and I are very grateful for your family's hospitality. We'll be staying here for a few days, Gintoki, while I make preparations to open up the school."

"Are you going to teach us sword-fighting, Yoshida-san?" asked Katsura.

"Everything in good time, Kotarou-kun,"

"I can swing a bokuto one hundred times," Katsura insisted.

"You take breaks," said Takasugi. "I've seen you."

"That's a sensible strategy," said Sensei sympathetically. "You don't want to hurt your arm. Perhaps you should do ten swings as your warm-up, then move on to your next exercise."

Katsura nodded happily. "I'll do that, Yoshida-san!"

Takasugi's brow was now scrunched up. He was either thinking through something or really needed to go to the bathroom.

"Yoshida-san, is it true that the samurai in Edo are cutting their hair?" he asked suddenly.

"Many of them are," said Sensei.

"Why?"

"They say that long hair gets in the way of the guns they are learning to use," Sensei answered.

Takasugi nodded. "I see. That makes sense."

"Shouldn't Takasugi go home?" Katsura asked Sensei pointedly. "You said his family's looking for him."

"Fine. I'll go home," said Takasugi. "You're going to be busy teaching Gintoki _geography _anyway." He turned to Sensei, that puzzled frown still showing on his brow. "Good day, Yoshida-san," he bowed to Sensei.

"Good day, Shinsuke-kun. Would you like me to let you out the gate? It might save you some time climbing."

"You'll let me go home by myself, then?" asked Takasugi warily.

"Of course. Though if you're hoping to sneak back home unnoticed, your family is already looking for you."

Takasugi tilted his chin up. "That's my business, Yoshida-san."

Gintoki bit his lip. It was so hard not to take another swing at Takasugi, or at least to tell him off for talking to Sensei in that manner. _Just make him go, please_.

While Sensei escorted Takasugi outside, Gintoki and Katsura sat down on the porch outside Gintoki's room.

"I wish he'd stop sneaking over here," said Katsura mournfully.

"Are you friends with him?" asked Gintoki.

"Sometimes. He's the only boy our age in this neighbourhood. It's fun to practice sword-fighting with him, though . . . Hey, Gintoki, do you know how to use a _shinai_?"

"I don't play with toy wooden swords," said Gintoki scornfully. "I've got a real sword."

"Shinai aren't toy swords-You have a real sword? Can I see it?"

"All right, but you can't touch it."

"Why not?"

"Because it's my sword. No one can touch it but me."

"Okay," agreed Katsura. "I won't touch it. I've got my own dagger," he added. "And I'll show you the family swords and armour later when everyone's cleared out."

"I've seen a lot of armour," said Gintoki, determined not to be intimidated. "Can yours stop lasers?"

"No. I think it would fall apart if you wore it," said Katsura seriously. "But an ancestor wore it at Sekigahara."

"What's that?"

"You don't even– don't worry, Gintoki. You'll learn history at school."

"I'm not worrying." Gintoki yawned. "I'm just hungry."

Katsura gasped. "I'm so sorry! Of course you haven't had any breakfast yet! Come on, let's go to the kitchen!"

This was a whole lot better than looking at some old armour. Gintoki gladly followed after Katsura.

The rest of the day passed in a whirl of strange new experiences and introductions. Katsura was a bit weird, but fun to play with. And he turned out to have _sisters_, who immediately pronounced Gintoki adorable and gave him sweets, which made up for it. Katsura's parents seemed very kind too, though they mostly were talking with Shouyou-sensei about boring grown-up things.

All day, a steady stream of visitors trickled into the house to welcome back Shouyou-sensei and meet his new young ward. Shock was plain on many of their faces when they first saw Gintoki, but they were unfailingly polite. To Gintoki, who was accustomed to strangers cursing him as a demon-child, it seemed absolutely extraordinary. There were so many people he soon gave up trying to remember everybody's names.

Some of the visitors tried asking Gintoki questions about the Amanto and the war, but Shouyou-sensei shushed them.

Dinnertime had been a challenge. Katsura's oldest sister had taken it upon herself to correct his posture and manners. Nothing he did seemed to be right. Sensei had told him he'd learn these things quickly, but maybe Sensei was just trying to be kind. It certainly didn't seem that way.

Still, it'd been the best dinner he'd had in his life. He'd eaten a lot more than he should have. The girls kept piling more food on his tray. Sitting on the porch after dinner with his back propped against a post, his stomach felt like it was going to explode.

Katsura was crouched nearby on the ground drawing the islands of Japan in the dust with a stick. Apparently, he was actually serious about teaching Gintoki geography. Though by the time he'd finished drawing the coastlines to his standards, Gintoki planned on being asleep.

He'd just closed his eyes when he heard voices drifting from the house.

"- it's kind of you,Yoshida-san to take in this boy, of course, but his influence on our children . . ." an unfamiliar voice was saying.

"I think it's far more likely that our children will have a positive influence on Gintoki." That was Katsura's father speaking. Gintoki bristled at the man's words. He didn't need to be influenced by anyone except Sensei.

"That's easy for you to say, Katsura-san. _Your_ children are dutiful. The heavens know why I've been afflicted with my unruly son."

"Both your son and my pupil have many years to develop their characters, Takasugi-san," Shouyou-sensei spoke up calmly.

_Takasugi. _

Oh, so it was that brat's father, come to complain about Gintoki. What a nice family!

Sensei continued. "That stubborn willfulness you see now in your son will develop into an immense strength of character."

"I pray so," replied Takasugi's father.

He started to say something else, but a voice much closer by suddenly drowned out the adults' conversation. "Yo! Katsura!"

Gintoki turned around to see a small figure approaching them through the shadowy garden.

"Takasugi!" Katsura gasped. "What happened to your hair?"

Without Katsura's identification, Gintoki wouldn't even have recognized Takasugi as the boy he'd met earlier that day. Takasugi's pony tail was gone. His remaining hair had been hacked off at different lengths around his head. At its longest, by his right cheek, it reached just beneath his chin. At its shortest, near the back, it was cut close to his skull.

"I cut it off," said Takasugi.

"You look like a scarecrow," Gintoki told him. "What'd you use? A fish knife?"

"I used my dagger," said Takasugi. "And it doesn't matter what it looks like. They'll have to cut it properly now."

"But why?" demanded Katsura.

"I told you. I'm going to be a real fighter."

"But a samurai's hair is supposed to be long!" Katsura wailed.

"The samurai here have never fought a war. They don't know anything."

"At least you look a bit less like a girl now, Takasugi," Gintoki observed.

Takasugi's green eyes flashed with sudden malice. "Too bad you still look like a freak."

"You both are going to have to grow your hair out, you know that, don't you?" said Katsura.

"No way," replied Gintoki at the same time Takasugi said, "Never."

"Sorry, Katsura, you can look like a girl by yourself," added Gintoki.

"I don't look like a girl!"

"Your hair's so _beautiful_!" continued Gintoki, now completely carried away.

"It's a wig," said Takasugi. "You can tell by his name."

"Oh yeah, a katsura's a type of wig, isn't it?" replied Gintoki.

"That's not the kanji in my name!" snapped Katsura.

"But it sounds just like it," observed Takasugi.

"No! Look!" Katsura grabbed up his stick and started feverishly tracing out lines in the dust. "This is my name, Gintoki. Like the Katsura tree."

Gintoki stared at the lines. They didn't mean anything to him. "I still think it's a type of wig."

"It's not a wig! It's a tree!"

"Okay, Zura, I believe you."

"It's not Zura, it's Katsura!"

"Zura," Takasugi tested the name out.

"Stop it!" Katsura yelled.

"All right, Zura."

Katsura's torment was brought to an end by the opening of the screen to the room where the adults were meeting.

"Shinsuke, I believe you have something to say to Yoshida-san." The well-dressed man who spoke must be Takasugi's father. Shouyou-sensei and Katsura's father were standing with him.

Takasugi's face fell. He bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Yoshida-san, for bothering you earlier today."

His father nodded, turning back to Sensei. "You'll note my son's new hair-cut, Yoshida-san. Apparently it's all the rage in Edo."

"I believe it is," said Shouyou-sensei lightly. "And yet I haven't cut my hair."

Katsura gave out a cry of relief. "I told you! Samurai have long hair, like Sensei!"

Sensei smiled, but shook his head. "The length of your hair doesn't make you a samurai."

"A samurai respects the traditions that have been handed down to him," said Takasugi's father.

"Yes, he does. And he seeks to uphold the virtues that those traditions were meant to serve. Your son will be a fine samurai, Takasugi-san, like his father."

Takasugi's father seemed unable to say anything to this. He nodded, then turned to his son. "Come along, Shinsuke."

Shouyou-sensei and Katsura's father watched the father and son leave quietly. Then Katsura's father spoke up.

"You've got yourself a little admirer there, Yoshida-san."

"He has a good heart," said Sensei. "And a mind that's striving to make sense of the world. I wish I could teach him."

"Don't be surprised if he shows up for your school. That boy does what he likes. Takasugi-san just complains about him."

Shouyou-sensei smiled. "I'll look forward to seeing him, then." He turned to Gintoki and Katsura. "Along with you two. I'm blessed to have you as my students."

Katsura started to babble something about how excited he was, and how he'd work hard at everything so he could become a great samurai. Gintoki just sighed contentedly.

Life, even with Takasugi around, was really quite wonderful. As long as he had Shouyou-sensei, everything was going to be okay.

**Author's Notes: **This fic is a mix of all sorts of historical inspiration with personal headcanons. I'll try to untangle them a bit here in the notes.

**-** First of all, I wondered why Takasugi's hair was already short as a kid, since Katsura's hairstyle is more the traditional samurai boy's.

- Katsura Kogaro and Takasugi Shinsaku were neighbours growing up in Hagi, Choshu. They were definitely neighbours in Gintama too. In the _Ryugujo_ arc, Katsura as an old man complains that the kid from the Takasugi household is always letting off fireworks and disturbing the neighbourhood.

Both Katsura and Takasugi came from well-off mid-ranking samurai families, and grew up expecting to serve as domain officials. But the real-life Katsura was six years older than Takasugi, so they didn't go to school together. But they both shared a connection to Yoshida Shoin aka Shouyou-sensei.

-As a child,Yoshida Shoin, the model for Shouyou-sensei in Gintama, inherited the post of Professor of Military Tactics at the domain's official academy: the Meirinkan. By age nine, he'd mastered the necessary texts to start lecturing on the subject. However, he realized as he grew older that the military knowledge taught in the Meirinkan was completely useless and out-of-date. To that end, he got permission from the domain to go study in Edo, where he learnt as much Western science and geography as was available in Japan at the time.

In Edo, he attempted a daring plan to secretly leave Japan with the American "Black Ships" of Admiral Perry. He was caught and sent to prison, where he started a school for both his fellow prisoners and the prison guards. Once he was released, he began a school for both samurai and commoners alike on his family's farm just outside Hagi. He taught older children – most of them teenagers – than in Gintama.

- Katsura never formally studied at Yoshida's school, since he was only three years younger than Yoshida in real life. But he looked up to Yoshida as a mentor and is popularly counted among Yoshida's students.

- Takasugi's father did not approve of Yoshida Shoin and his school. Teenage Takasugi, however, decided on his own that he'd go to Yoshida's school instead of the Meirinkan, and Takasugi Sr. grudgingly tolerated it. Takasugi was a real handful from early childhood: rude, stubborn, wilful. Yoshida Shoin saw past this and encouraged his better qualities, earning Takasugi's undying devotion. I wanted to play off this a bit in this fic.

- Katsura's name is written with the kanji 桂 . The Katsura tree (_Cercidiphyllum japonicum_) is native to both Japan and China. But katsura as written with the kanji 鬘 means a wig/hairpiece. Zura also means wig, and is written in kana: ヅラ. So it's easy to see the thought process that led to Katsura's nickname, and why it annoys him so much. I'd picked up the gist of the joke from Translator's Notes but writing this, I used the excellent Denshi Jisho online Japanese dictionary to figure out the specifics. I doubt I'll ever seriously study Japanese, but I do enjoy learning _about_ languages and how they work.

- Samurai boys got to carry a dagger around on them from an early age. And if you've read my other fic, "Steel and Blossoms," yep, the dagger Takasugi uses to cut his hair is the same one that has an important bit in that story.

- Last and definitely least, Sekigahara was the battle in 1600 in which Tokugawa Ieyasu cemented his control of Japan. The ancestors of Choshu samurai like Takasugi and Katsura were on the losing side there, a fact they never forgot.


End file.
